Through Carl's Eyes
by BlanchetteAndre94
Summary: Ever wondered what was going through Carl's mind in The Walking Dead season two finale? Rated T for some gore/violence. Updated on November 18, 2012 due to some misunderstandings on my part.
1. Chapter 1

**Ever wondered what was going through Carl's mind during The Walking Dead season 2 finale? Well, here's my take on it. You don't have to like it, but I do hope you enjoy it. I don't remember every single detail of the finale, so just bear with me, it's not perfect.**

**So, enjoy! :)**

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><p>It's just as easy as point and shoot, thought Carl.<p>

His heart was pounding through his chest like a hammer beating away. He felt the cold sweat slowly tricking down his neck. His palms were slippery with sweat so that he struggled to have a grip on the gun.

He saw his father, Rick, coming towards him. He was trying to tell Carl something, but Carl's ears couldn't pick up a sound. His father's words were muffled and gurgled; it was as if he was underwater. His eyesight was blurred, and he saw nothing but shapes and black masses. But Carl saw the all-too familiar shape rise up. It was Shane. Shane, the man who tried to replace Rick as a leader of their group and as a father to Carl and husband to Lori. Shane, the man who Carl had befriended and looked up to at the dawn of the apocalypse. Carl knew this for a long time.

Carl saw his father and Shane argue on the field not too far from the farm. He snuck out through a window and sneaked up on Rick and Shane, carrying a loaded gun. He knew that if he used it, there would be no turning back. It was the point of no return, but he was determined to fight for his father. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him again.

But now, as he saw his father walking towards, he knew his father was saying words of comfort, although Carl couldn't hear a thing. It's gonna be alright, Rick said as Carl imagined it in his mind. He saw Shane behind his father, approaching faster and quicker with every step. Shane's fast-paced walk was accompanied stumbles and dragging feet; Carl came to the conclusion that Shane was a walker, although he witnessed the whole event where Rick killed Shane and there were no walkers around, he didn't understand why Shane had all of sudden became a walker. It confused him. And as Shane came closer and closer, in his mind he saw the man who had saved him and his mom, the man who taught him how to catch frogs, and the man who made him laugh, and realized that that man had been long gone. He had to think of his father now, and he to put Shane out of his misery. With his gun pointed straight ahead, his heart pounding through his chest louder than ever, the sound of his breath and nothing else...he pulled the trigger...and Shane's body went down. After that moment, his heart was beating slower and slower with every second as he tried to grasp the situation he found himself in. His palms were less sweaty and he didn't feel that cold sweat trickling down his neck anymore. His eyesight cleared up and he could distinctly see his father, Shane's body, the woods, the stars and the moon. He hearing cleared up too, and heard the ringing of the blast for a brief moment, the sound of his breath and of his father's, the sound of crickets, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

All was in peace.

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><p>Silence. That was between him and Carl as they walked back to Hershel's farm. Nothing could be heard but the sound of their own footsteps, rustling through the leaves.<p>

Carl was a little shaky, but he refused to be seen like that. He shot his first walker, and not just any walker... it had to be Shane. A sense of sadness and guilt came over him. But I had no choice, though Carl, He was going to kill Dad. I need Dad now, more than ever. More than he knows. Although, Carl knew the answers, he still had to ask Rick, "What happened?" He saw Rick take a deep breath, "Were you guys attacked?" He kept looking back and forth between the ground and his dad. "I mean, I heard a gunshot, but I didn't see any walkers nearby," continued Carl, but still, no answer came from Rick. He was just quiet, didn't say a word, and kept on walking. "How did Shane die?" asked Carl, but he knew how. He knew about everything. There was no point in asking, but he still wanted to hear the truth, and most importantly he wanted hear the truth from Dad.

It was the only thing that would assure him that what was happening was real, that it wasn't just a bad dream that he can wake from.

Rick finally decided to stop. He stared deeply into his son's eyes. Carl could see in his eyes a struggle within. A struggle to find the right words to say. His father's chest moved in and out as he tried to catch his breath. Still, he didn't say anything. Carl, waiting, began to feel anger rising in him, along with hurt. Dad, please say something, thought Carl. He wanted to say those words out loud, too.

All of sudden, there were strange noises coming from Carl's left-hand side, coming from the woods, almost like a low grumbling, humming noise. He looked up at his father and realized that he wasn't the only one who heard those noises. Carl decided to look away from his father and out into the woods. Oh no! It was like a parade of walkers, parading onto Hershel's farm. Carl had never seen so many before. The walkers reminded him of those people he saw on television on New Year's Eve in those crowded cities. There were so many!

He felt a tight grip on his arm, and realized that his father was pulling him back towards the farm. "Oh my God!" said Rick.

Carl took off with Rick following close behind his heels. Carl's heart, again, was pounding. It felt as if there was something alien-like that was hammering away through his ribs and chest, and that in any minute now, it would burst and set itself free. His legs and thighs began to cramp up, and with the cold air, it felt like a thousand icy needles that penetrated deep; past his skin, past his tissues and muscles, and right down to the core of his bones. It was starting to hurt real badly, but he continued to run. It was a matter of life and death. There were no other options.

Carl was running at full speed when he felt a tug on his arm. He was ready to scream, thinking it was one of the walkers who managed to get a hold on him, but instead, he looked up and saw his father. "Come over here," he said. And he noticed that there were already a few walkers who had managed to make it to the farm's front lawn. Instead, Rick took him into the barn and quickly shut the doors and barricaded them. It was less than a minute before walkers started to surround the entrance. Oh God, thought Carl. What do we do? What do we do? He noticed his father, taking in deep breaths, looking around the barn frantically, as if he was trying to find another option to escape the walkers and survive. Carl, on the other hand, just stared at him, clueless on what to do next. This is it, isn't it, he thought, this is the end of us. He imagined how his mother would cope when she discovers that her husband and son didn't survive the ambush. It would break her heart, but she still had someone to love and care for, her unborn child. Even though Carl will never get a chance to be a big brother. They'll meet again, one day, maybe in Heaven. Heaven. The word seems to sink in. He had told Carol that the idea of a Heaven was stupid, and now Carl regrets those words. He couldn't bring to himself that he had said such a thing to Carol, especially after she lost her daughter. Carl missed Sophia, and come to think of it, if he died (and probably will), he'll get to hang out with Sophia again. That actually didn't seem too bad at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second part of the story. I'm only doing three chapters. So read it, enjoy it, rate it, and review it. :) :)**

The walkers surrounding the barn started to overwhelm Carl and his dad, Rick. Their gray, green, and yellow skin peeling off their bodies reveal charred tissue underneath. Carl could see distinctively through the spaces between the planks of wood. He could see their teeth, black and gooey as tar; pus as thick as buttercream trickle down on what's left of their skin. Their eyes seem to pop out of their sockets and look like gummies. Fingers, toes, and limbs appear to be missing, and blood, dark as brown and black, pour out of their mouths. Their smell is horrid; ten times worse than the smell of dead animals left out in the open road to rot. The smell makes Carl's stomach turn. You think he would be used to it by now, but he isn't, especially if that smell is spread out five times than the usual.

At this moment, Carl believes that this might be his doom after all. Both he and his father are surrounded by walkers, and even if they climbed up the ladder and through the open window, they'd still be surrounded. Even if they wait out the attack, the walkers would eventually tore apart the planks of wood and bring down the barn.

There was no way to escape.

"Carl!"

Carl whipped his head at the sound of his father's voice, Rick. "Carl!" he repeated, "I want you to take this lighter, climb up the ladder and get on top, and when I tell you, light it and drop it when I say so, alright?" Carl didn't understand. _Why does he want me to burn down the barn?_ thought Carl. Then he smelled it. A smell that wasn't as strong as the rotting fleshes around him, but he could distinctively make out the smell: gasoline. _What is he going to do? Burn down the barn along with the walkers? How long do we have to wait until they break down the doors?_ thought Carl.

Carl looked at the lighter in his hands; smooth, shiny, and cold to the touch; and then he looked up into his father's eyes. Light blue; like the color of a backyard swimming pool. He could see in his father's eyes that this could be the end for one of them...or both of them. "I love you," said Rick. His words pierced Carl's heart with pain. He tried to say something back, something that would have meaning to Rick, something to reassure Rick that no matter what, he would always have his son's complete, unconditional love. Instead, Carl was speechless. Another wave of pain struck his heart.

_I love you too Dad_, thought Carl.

Rick quickly turning away from Carl started walking towards the barricaded doors. Carl, snapping back into reality, also started to walk up the ladder and reached the second level of the barn, with the lighter in his hand. From up there, he could see his father hesitating to open the doors...then with a deep sigh and a heavy breath, he reaches out to the plank that was holding the double doors together and slowly lifts it and drops it to the floor. Immediately, the walkers rampage through the barn, and Rick, on his heels, makes a dash towards the ladder. "Carl!" he yelled. "Carl! Do it now! Drop it!"

Carl took out the lighter from his pocket; smooth, shiny, and cold to the touch.

Then, with a swift movement, it lights up.

Carl, reaching out with his right hand over the edge, looks down at the walkers. In his mind, he saw faces of people; people who had jobs, families, boyfriends, girlfriends, homes, and friends. He never saw them as savages or the beasts; just unlucky in life in that they had met a violent end. It was heartbreaking to Carl, but there was no time to waste. He had to drop the lighter, now or never. So he did. The minute the lighter hit the floor, a hundred flames swooped over the barn. The walkers were completely and rapidly consumed by the flames. One by one, Carl saw them burn to death, or die again. He didn't know if they felt pain or not, but their shrieks and groans were like sharp fingernails running over a black chalkboard.

Carl noticed that Rick was standing beside him, panting, and now urging him to go outside.

They climbed through the open window and felt the chilled wind on their backs, but still remained high above the ground. But they couldn't jump because there were walkers already surrounding them. There were even more of them now. Carl felt his heart sink again. He looked up at his father and saw him draw out his gun and started shooting. He remembered the gun he stole from Daryl a few days ago and decided that it was time to put all of those shooting practices into good use.

He drew out his gun, and knowing that there was no time to be wasted, started shooting immediately. He quickly tried to aim at the walkers' heads and pulled the trigger as quickly as he can. With every shot came with blood and brains, splattered all over; on the walkers, on the sides of the barn, even chunks of brain got into some of the walkers' mouths and eyes. Carl felt his stomach churn again and this time he thought he was really going to vomit. He saw how the walkers seemed to be oblivious of the fact that they were dying off one by one, and Carl was surprised that they didn't eat one another after they were permanetly dead. It always struck Carl as odd.

Moments later, he heard shots out in the distance.

The walkers had reached the farm and he could see that there were dozens of them.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The shots were heard from different spots. It was clear that everybody back at the farm was separated. All of sudden, Carl's mother appeared in his mind. He just realized that he left her all alone in the house without a word and worried. He was afraid now. He was wondering if she was looking for him and the idea of her searching for him in the midst of chaos seized Carl with fear. A thought crossed his mind. What if his mom died? He started to panic on the inside. He felt his heart hammering away against his chest, he heard the beat drumming in his ears, his palms were hot and slippery, and he felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of this neck. His legs grew weak, his arms numbed, he was dizzy and light-headed, and the gun felt like a ton. It took him a lot effort now just to fire one shot. He looked overs his father and saw a face of determination. Determined to survive. Carl wanted his mother all of sudden. He craved for her warmth, her voice soothing him, her blue eyes. He didn't want to lose her, he wanted to grasp her. He had a sudden urge to jump into the crowd of walkers and run as fast as his legs could carry him and land into his mother's arms.

Out of Carl's eyes, he saw bright lights moving towards them. They blinded him for a second, and then he realized that the RV was coming towards them. _Maybe they're here to rescue us_, thought Carl. He wasn't sure who was driving, but he followed his father's footsteps and jumped onto the vehicle. _They were_, thought Carl. His heart seemed to flutter a bit. Hope, he assumed it was. Maybe he and his father would escape after all. He would live to see another day.

It brought sense back into him. He realized what he was doing, and continued to fire shots.

And then there was a scream.

Coming underneath his feet.

He knew it wasn't any of the walkers; it had to be the people who saved them. But he only heard one, distinctive scream. He strained his ears to hear for others, but it was the same one.

It sounded like Jimmy.

"Come on!" said Rick, obviously yelling at Carl. "We have to get out of here! We've got a jump!" he said. They both got off the RV safely. The walkers were within arm's reach, but a barrier was blocking them. Carl didn't know how long the barrier would stay upright, but he wasn't sticking around to find out. He saw the flames dance around the barn. The smell of dead bodies and burning wood was painful. His nose hurt and his eyes watered. He felt his father tug on his arm, beckoning him to move forward, away from danger.

He still heard Jimmy's screams.

When they reach the front of the RV, both Rick and Carl looked up through the window. In less than a second, a scream unlike any other before pierced their ears. It made the Carl's blood turn cold. And then, a gush of blood splattered on the window. Like the juice of an orange squeezed. It sickens Carl. He was ready to vomit again, but his father pulled him back, heading towards the house.

They were finally back at the house, but they weren't safe yet. There were walkers everywhere, some as close within an arm's reach, in the front of them, behind them, to their sides. There were dozens. Carl felt his heart sink again when he looked at them, and when he saw how the farm look deserted. They must have left already. He thought of his mom, how scared she must be, how worried she is. If she was alive. He couldn't afford to think like that. He was secretly hoping she would still be in the house or around here, fighting off the walkers. Instead, he saw Hershel, alone, fighting off the workers. Just shooting.

They ran into him. "Hershel!" screamed Rick. "We have to get out of here! NOW!"

"I'm not leaving this house!" Hershel screamed back. "If I die in this house, so be it. I spent my whole life protecting this place, and I put my heart and soul to it."

"We have to go. There's no more for us here. It's gone. We have to get out of there with our lives while we still can."

"Where's my mom?" asked Carl. "Why isn't she here?"

"I don't know where she is. The last time I saw her she was with Patricia, Beth, and T-Dog," said Hershel.

His calm voice frightened Carl. He started to panic again. Where is she? he thought.

"My guess is that she is making her way towards the highway, where everyone else is heading!" Rick exclaimed, turning his attention towards Hershel. During all this time, all three of them were still shooting walkers. "We have to go, Hershel! Your daughters are counting on you to return to them. You can't leave them alone now. They need you, alive!" yelled Rick.

All of sudden, something clicked in Hershel. He stopped firing, lowered his gun, turned his head towards Rick, and looked sadly at him.

And then they were on their way towards the highway.

They found a car and immediately set off course.

They were a good distance away from the house when Hershel looked back. Carl saw in his eyes grief and disappointment.

Carl seemed to relax a little. They were finally away from danger. He thought the farm was the safest place he's ever been to, but he was wrong. Hope seemed to die in him. And it sunk even deeper when he thought of his mother.


	3. Chapter 3

It was broad daylight when Carl opened his eyes. The sun was blinding. It took some time for his eyes to adjust, but when he finally did, he had a good look at his surroundings. He realized that they were close to the highway, any minute now and it will appear.

He wasn't looking forward to seeing the highway again. It's where they lost Sophia. He remembered the sudden shock he felt when he realized Sophia had gone missing. When he saw her again, she was a walker. Her brownish-blonde hair dirty like the dirt, her skin scaly and green, and her eyes white as snow...

His thoughts suddenly swam towards his mother. He felt his heart ache ever so lightly.

Mom, he thought abruptly. I hope you're still alive. I need you. I need you so bad, it hurts. I can't live without you. I love you. Come back, Mom. Please, come back.

He looked up towards his left and saw his father. His eyes were red and had a sunken look to them. Carl wondered how long his father had been awake. He looked up towards his right and saw Hershel. He too had sunken, red eyes. Carl wondered if he had been awake for a long time too. Even though Carl did go to sleep in the car between the two men comfortably, he couldn't shake off his memories and thoughts of last night. Watching Shane die and then come back alive only for Carl to shoot him, the walkers surrounding the farm and the barn, the smell of gasoline and dead flesh, the sight of flames, Jimmy's blood smeared on the windshield...Jimmy's death was the only one that greatly disturbed Carl. It was as if Jimmy had been a pimple and the walkers picked at him until he popped. It sent shivers up Carl's spine.

He realized that after last night, he will never be the same.

The highway was in plain sight now. Carl could distinctively see the mass destruction of cars and trucks on the road. Even from his distance, he could tell that nothing has changed. Everything appears to be untouched since the last time.

The vehicle gave a sudden jolt when Rick parked it before the debris began. All three of them got out, weapons in hands, ready to be used if needed.

Carl looked around the highway frantically. If his mother made it alive (and hopefully she did), this is where she would be. Rick had said so and promised so. But there was no sign of her anymore.

"Where is she?" asked Carl, "You said she'd be here! We have to go back for her!"

"Carl-" Rick started to say.

"No, Dad! Why are we running?!" he yelled. "We have to go back. It's mom for crying out loud!" He started to well up.

He could see that his father was weary and tired and looked like he aged a decade within one night. So did Hershel.

Rick kneeled down beside him and put a reassuring hand on Carl. "Carl," he said "listen we have-"

"No!" yelled Carl. He pushed his father's hand off his shoulder and stomped away. He was mad. Mad at his dad for so recklessly abandoning his mom. He leaned against a car with his arms folded across his chest, looking out into the wilderness. He felt the cool metal pressed against his back and the smell of pine, surprisingly. The sun shined ahead, giving him warmth, but it was still unbearably cold. He heard his father and Hershel talking in hushed voices.

Some time had passed since they first arrived at the highway. They barely escaped another lone walker passing by. "I don't know how long we can stay here," said Hershel. Carl looked up into his father's eyes and said in a firm voice, "No, I'm not leaving here without mom."

Carl could see that Rick was struggling from within. The look on Rick's face pained him. But nonetheless, he wanted his father to go back and search for Lori, and hopefully, bring her safe. After a brief moment, Rick got down on his knees again and cupped Carl's face in his hands. "Carl," he said. Carl started to well up again and this time there was no holding back. He braced himself for what he was about to hear.

All of sudden, there was a sound. As it grew louder and louder, Carl knew it was a motorcycle. Daryl! he thought. All three men of them slowly stood up to greet Daryl. And there he was with Carol sitting behind him.

And as if right on cue, two vehicles emerged onto the highway. Carl saw Maggie and Glen in the first car, Hershel's daughter, T-Dog, and his mother in the second car. She's alive, thought Carl, she's alive, and she's here! He couldn't help but smile. Now all that weight on his shoulders lifted off.

The cars came to a screeching halt. Everybody jumped out and hugged one another. Carl ran to his mother. "Mom!" he shouted. He jumped onto her and she embraced him. Her warm arms tightened around his small frame and he never felt so loved and relieved to know that his mother was still, indeed, fine.

"Where's everybody else?" asked Daryl. "I guess we're the only ones so far," replied Rick.

"Shane?" asked Lori. Carl wondered if he should tell his mother that he was the one to put down Shane for good, after he turned into a walker. Rick shook his head no. "Andrea?" asked Glenn. "We saw her go down," replied T-Dog. "Patricia?" asked Hershel. "No," replied Beth, shaking her head and starting to cry. Hershel wrapped his arms around her, comforting her.

The sun had slowly disappeared from the sky, so that the only thing that remained was the dark.

The group found a place on the outskirts of the woods and next to the road. And although a fire was blazing throughout the night, the air was extremely chilly. They all tried to keep warm.

Everyone was quiet.

Earlier, Daryl told the group about how Shane's story with Randall didn't check out. Daryl and Glenn found the boy as a walker and were shocked to see no bite or scratch wounds, but just a broken neck. Everyone looked to Rick and he told them that everyone is infected, everyone is carrying the virus. Carl noticed how the group suddenly became terrified, saddened, and angered.

Rick was carrying the secret around all this time and didn't mention it once.

Carl was furious too. Why didn't his father feel the need to tell them? He felt all that weight again on shoulders, like if he was carrying a burden. And what about his unborn sister...or brother? What does it mean now if everyone carries the virus?

It was still quiet. Carl could sense the anger and disappointment in everyone. Rick had fallen short of their expectations.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
